


Don't Touch

by bobintheback



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Frottage, Just another highschool pwp, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 16:04:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1611122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobintheback/pseuds/bobintheback
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby is fascinated by Warren's wings--and Warren in general.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2007 and had posted it to my Livejournal at the time (which probably doesn't even exist anymore). 
> 
> I am not a hardcore X-Men fan, so the very few non-PWP details might not actually be true to the story. Set sometime after X-Men: The Last Time; based on the movies, not the comics. 
> 
> The universe and none of the characters are mine. This never happened, of course.

Bobby watched out of the corner of his eye as Warren took his shirt off and got into bed. Sharing rooms definitely had its advantages. He was always awed by Warren’s body: smooth taut skin over lean, well-defined muscles. The guy looked like something right out of a drawing manual. Every part of his body was perfect: the veins flowing down his forearms, the soft blue eyes, the muscular thighs, and the wings—those spectacular white wings that Warren kept hidden behind his back at all times. In the few weeks that Warren had been here, Bobby had not seen him use them once. They stayed neatly folded behind his back, nearly touching the floor. They were mysterious, and Bobby liked it.

Warren turned his lamp off, forcing Bobby to turn his attention back to his books. He had to get this English paper done, and with Warren finally under the covers, he was maybe going to be able to concentrate. 

“Come to bed, Bobby,” Warren mumbled. Bobby’s stomach squeezed for a split second. He turned toward Warren.

“What?”

Warren lifted his head from the pillow. “Go to bed, I said. You’ve been at that homework for ever. Go to bed; do it in the morning.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Bobby replied. He went to brush his teeth and slid into bed. He lay in the dark for a long time, unable to sleep. Warren had said come to bed, not go, and the flash of arousal Bobby had felt in his stomach at that moment had shaken him.

* * *

Bobby wasn’t listening to Professor Xavier. Physics came to him naturally, and he’d done the homework without any trouble. He looked over at Warren who had a slight frown on his face and didn’t look like he was paying any attention to class either. Warren scratched his upper thigh through his jeans and images flew into Bobby’s mind, images of his hand reaching for Warren’s crotch, his hand feeling the shape of Warren’s dick, Warren’s hips moving—

“Bobby,” Professor X said sharply, and Bobby looked up startled. “I know you found these exercises easy, but try to follow along anyways, okay?”

“Yes, Professor Xavier,” Bobby answered. He felt his face flush a bit as he realised Professor X had most probably seen what he had been thinking about. He concentrated on the problem the class was discussing. 

The bell finally rang, and Professor X dismissed the class. Bobby gathered his books and headed toward the door where Warren was already waiting for him. 

“Bobby, may I have a word with you?” Professor X asked. Bobby looked over at Warren. “You go on, Warren,” the professor said. “This will take a few minutes.” Warren shrugged and left.

Bobby sat down in front of Professor X, hoping the discussion wasn’t going to be about his less-than-appropriate thoughts during class.

“That’s not what I want to talk to you about, Bobby. I wanted to know how you’re getting along with your new roommate.”

“Oh. Umm… He’s okay… he’s great. He’s fine really. A bit shy, but not a bother, I guess. He doesn’t talk much, though.”

Professor Xavier smiled knowingly. “And what about him? Do you think he’s adapting well?” he asked.

Bobby thought about it for a moment. “Well, as I said, he doesn’t talk much, so I’m not too sure. He pretty much just hangs out with Rogue and me.” He hesitated for a few seconds. “I don’t think he’s sleeping very well, though.”

Professor Xavier gave him a questioning look.

“In the morning, when I wake up, his bed is surrounded by feathers. I mean, he picks them up as soon as he’s awake as though… as though he’s ashamed of them. I don’t think he knows I’ve seen them, so I haven’t asked him about it. I don’t want to pry, you know? But I think he has nightmares or something.”

“Yes,” Professor X said. “Angel’s been through a lot since his childhood. He has trouble accepting his gift. But you two have a lot more in common than you believe. I often hear you think the same type of things in class. Anyways, thanks for the talk Bobby. You may go to English class.”

Bobby nodded and left for Storm’s classroom.

* * *

Warren was reading on his bed when Bobby walked into the room, fresh out of the shower. Warren looked up from his book.

“So what did Professor X want after physics?” he asked.

“Not much,” Bobby answered. “He wanted to know how we were getting along. How you were adapting to the new environment.”

“And…?”

“Well,” Bobby didn’t know how much he should tell him. “Well, I told him you didn’t talk much and about… I told him about the feathers around your bed.” He cringed a bit waiting for Warren’s reaction.

“People around here really don’t know how to mind their own business, do they?” Warren muttered, turning back to his book.

Bobby stood silent, wondering if he should apologise.

“What did he tell you about me?” Warren asked.

Bobby cleared his throat nervously. “He told me you went through a lot when you were young, and that you had trouble accepting your gift,” Bobby answered. He was speaking faster than usual and knew he probably sounded a bit edgy.

Warren, though, kept a straight face, almost as if he weren’t even listening; he nodded simply and continued reading.

“He also said we had a lot in common; heard us thinking the same things during class,” Bobby added quickly.

Warren looked up sharply. “He just listens to our thoughts?” he asked.

“Well not exactly,” Bobby said. “He doesn’t, usually. But sometimes when he sees we haven’t been paying attention much or that we seem worried—especially with the newer students—he taps in for a second to make sure we’re alright.”

Warren’s face seemed to redden. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be more careful.”

* * *

Bobby looked at Warren sitting at his desk, his back to the room. He studied the wings for a second. Warren was wearing only boxers and Bobby could see where the wings fused with his back. He tried to imagine them wide open.

“You know I can see you in the mirror staring at them, right?” Warren asked.

Bobby jumped and looked into the mirror where Warren was giving him a dark look. “Sorry, I was just wondering…” Bobby got up from his chair and walked slowly over to Warren. Warren got up quickly and turned his back away from Bobby defensively.

“Don’t you ever use them?” Bobby asked softly.

“I’m not used to being allowed to, so I guess I haven’t really found a use for them,” Warren answered, looking down at his hands.

“Did they hurt when you were growing up?” Bobby asked. His voice was shaky with how close to Warren he was standing.

“Like a bitch,” Warren answered, speaking just above a whisper.

Bobby brought his hand slowly toward Warren’s back. He wanted to touch them, to know what they felt like. Warren pushed his arm aside gently but didn’t move away. Bobby looked into Warren’s eyes intently and slipped his hand behind Warren again. Warren stood still, his body stiff. Bobby touched the soft feathers. He ran his hand down the wing, and Warren let out a stuttery breath. Bobby touched Warren’s back with his other hand; he could feel the muscles relax. Warren brought his gaze up to Bobby’s face, and he seemed to be trying to figure him out.

Warren kissed him—a needy, hungry kiss—and Bobby closed his eyes, sinking into it willingly. Warren’s tongue pried his mouth open, making Bobby moan quietly. The feathers tickled his arm, sending a shiver through his body and to his groin. He was getting hard. Suddenly, Warren’s hands seemed to move over Bobby’s body with a mind of their own: under his shirt, over his nipples, down his ribs, up his back, not leaving an inch of his skin unexplored. Warren took a few steps forward, backing Bobby up against the wall. He was pinning him to it with his hips, and Bobby’s heart was beating fast. He kissed down Warren’s neck to his collarbone as his hands pushed down on the waistband of Warren’s boxers. Warren’s fingers imitated Bobby’s and pushed his pants down.

Warren’s hard cock was already wet and slick against Bobby’s skin and he was forgetting how to speak. Warren pressed his hips into Bobby’s, positioning himself so their cocks rubbed against each other perfectly. Bobby moved with him, bringing a hand down to Warren’s ass and an arm across the small of his back, trying to get Warren closer, if that was even possible. Warren’s heavy breathing against Bobby’s shoulder where he was kissing him, the feel of his muscles moving under his hands, the sensation of Warren’s cock against his own: it was all driving him mad and near the edge. The sensation in his groin was overpowering. Warren was kissing and licking him all over, anywhere and everywhere he could reach without breaking the motion of their hips.

Bobby heard Warren’s wings move, and he opened his eyes to see them. They were fluttering erratically. Warren’s body steadied suddenly, and his wings flew open violently in a gush of wind, knocking some books to the floor. Warren came, letting out a groan against Bobby’s shoulder. Bobby looked at Warren who was flushed, his wings spread out majestically behind him, wide and ghostly white. The striking sight vanished as white sparks flew behind Bobby’s eyes. His orgasm shuddered through him, intense and hot, leaving him breathless, his knees threatening to let go.

When he opened his eyes again, Warren’s wings were folded back to their usual positions, obedient and orderly. Warren leaned against him a moment longer before wiping the come off their stomachs with a gym towel that had been hanging on the back of his chair. He kissed Bobby and ran his fingers lightly down his side, covering Bobby’s skin with goose bumps.

“Goodnight,” he whispered close to Bobby’s ear. He turned away and turned the light off before getting into bed.

Bobby stood against the wall, in a daze and unable to move.

“Go to bed, Bobby,” Warren mumbled.

With the image of Warren coming with his wings spread wide open still stuck in his mind, Bobby was never going to be able to sleep. He lay down in his bed and stared at Warren’s wings jutting out from under the covers. Sometime during the night, he was overcome by sleep.

* * *

Bobby opened his eyes unwillingly. He couldn’t remember setting the alarm clock the night before and felt a pang of panic. He checked the clock at saw it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet. He sighed in relief and looked over at Warren who was still sleeping. His gaze moved down to the floor surrounding Warren’s bed. A couple of white feathers clashed with the dark wood of the floorboards. A small feeling of contentment flashed through Bobby. He turned around and went back to sleep.


End file.
